


Once Upon a Pillow

by SilverMiko



Series: A Funny Girl That Belle [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMiko/pseuds/SilverMiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin isn't sure entirely why he chose the auburn-haired princess to be his companion/housekeeper, but both will learn their relationship goes beyond a simple contract. (Includes tidbits of what we're shown in episodes and covering some of the in between we don't see.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Pillow

**Once Upon a Pillow**

 

     He was not sure why he asked for the princess in return for saving the kingdom. Even for his standards, it was an odd contract. She was a wisp of a thing in gold silk and auburn curls, but he supposedly she was the most intelligent of the bunch that stood before him. Her father the King was practically useless, and her betrothed equally a waste of space. He supposed it was curiosity at her gumption, and also that his castle was in sorry need of upkeep.

     Then again, he also liked to flavor his contracts with a degree of cruelty, purposeful, because it tested the will of those on the receiving end. It was astounding how the supposed brave would gamble away the things they claimed to love most for an easy way out. Nonetheless. The bargain was struck and off they went, where the only thing she’d be princess of was a broom. He could tell she struggled to contain her emotions, her sorrow at her new lot in life, but she had chosen to be the brave one and was mustering all her dignity to not fall apart. They reached the castle, he explained what her new life would entail, and that was that. A castle of one now was a castle of two. He was mean, unsympathetic, and tossed her in a cell. He pretended later her sobs were just the wind. Until it went on for days. Enough was enough. He marched down to the dungeons below, to her cell, where that infernal choked sobbing continued. It would not do. Not at all. If anything, it interrupted him nightly.

     “When you so eagerly agreed to come and work for me, I assumed you wouldn’t miss your family quite so much.” It was not like they put up that much a fight to keep her, certainly not that idiot she was to marry.

 Instead of cowering, as most tended to when he reproached them, Belle stood proud despite her tears.

   “I made my sacrifice for them, of course I miss them you beast!”

  Despite the strength in her words, an odd, steely resolve, Rumplestiltskin could not miss the tears watering over in her eyes ready to spill. A beast. Yes, he supposed many felt that way and after all this these decades he was apt to play the role. And yet her words made it feel anew and jarring. He had been a kind man, once, but that kindness put him under the boots of others. Yet still, hers were boots too soft for stomping despite her anger and sorrow.

   “Yes, yes, of course. But the crying must stop. Night after night, it’s making it very difficult for me to spin,” he began, his hands making the usual dramatic gestures he seemed to have adopted when becoming the Dark One. Yes, it was his spinning she was interrupting, and he could claim forever that was why he was in her cell to make it stop. It was almost easy to confuse guilt with annoyance in this circumstance.

  “You know,” he continued, “I do my best thinking then.”

  His approach became more gentle, and it was clear from his inability to say anything further that she was confused by his approach as well. Perhaps it called for an action instead of words. With the wave of a hand and purple smoke, a pale gold pillow appeared in his hand.

 “Here. Perhaps this will help?” She looked confused by his offer, disbelieving.

 “For me?” she asked. The faint hope in her voice that perhaps he would soften in his dealings with her startled him and he tossed the pillow at her. He wanted to run away, up the stairs, out of the castle, to another land.

  “Not quite so beastly now, am I?”

   Later, as he sat at his wheel spinning, his mind wandered to his actions earlier. As intolerable as the crying had been, was it really so bothersome? He could have simple used a silencing spell or soundproofed the room. Perhaps it was the knowing, knowing she lay there night after sobbing at her wretched fate, the beautiful princess martyred to save her kingdom from the ogres. Someone would probably write a legend about her one day, perhaps he would have a role as the beast she claimed him to be. The pillow was a surprise even to him; he had conjured it before even thinking clearly. He hoped she didn’t get the wrong impression. It was a gesture to shut her up, nothing more. Any further acts of kindness were not to be expected. He wondered if it was she, or he, that needed reminding. The question of it would wait as a crash from above echoed throughout the castle. They made their way upstairs to the dining room where a hooded figure stood poised by the window.


End file.
